


Eyes

by applejuice_motherfucker



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aftercare, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 17:11:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/applejuice_motherfucker/pseuds/applejuice_motherfucker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He likes it when you do that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I have a crazy mad thing for boys in stockings. So does Bro, I decided.

He's not even watching you, eyes fixed on the t.v. as you sit here on the floor humiliating yourself in front of him. He's spread out on the couch, showing off his dominance like a slap in the face, one hand hanging off the back, the other tapping an absent rhythm on his knee, legs parted wide to take up even more space. You let out a gasp, half overwhelmed, half just seeking his attention. He doesn't move.

 Your head tips back, eyes fluttering shut as you press the silicon cock against your prostate again, stretching your legs further upward and apart, the seams of your thigh highs cutting into your skin. You moan again, your hips working against your hand as you slide the dildo almost the whole way out before pressing back in slowly.

 You're teasing yourself on purpose; he likes it when you do that.

 You rock your whole body back on your balancing arm, opening yourself up even further, your toes curling, catching the silk fabric of your stockings between them, and you bite your lip, letting a whine escape your throat. It feels like you've been here for ages, fucking yourself on the floor while he just ignores you. You want him to look at you, you want him to slide down to you on his knees and rip the tight fabric from your legs with his teeth. You want his cock buried inside you instead of a plastic imitation. You want to wrap your arms around his shoulders and scream into his neck as he makes you come with deep, punishing power.

 Your hand speeds up, forcing the toy harder inside, a sharp cry forcing itself out at the images you're conjuring to torture yourself. You're sounding desperate now, and you don't care because you just need him to _look at you_ , you need him to _see_ you like this, to see what he's making you do to yourself. It's his fault, and its all for him. Your open your eyes, dim light from the screen flickering across his face as you stare, watching him close, praying that he'll even just glance at you, even just acknowledge you. Another gasp, a pant, a curse, anything to get him to look at you.

 You switch, securing the toy down on the floor, moving yourself to sit up over it, the tip still inside you. Your stockings cut deeper into your thighs like pure white silken torment. You want him to snap them against your skin, to play with them as he watches you close, sees how fucking hard you are, the pre cum drip from your cock as you press your hips down onto the fake cock, wishing it could be his. It pushes at a new angle, brushing your prostate with each long stroke. You haven't touched yourself at all and you're still so fucking close, vision clouding, light bursting behind your eyes. Your throat hurts from ragged breaths, your voice liquid and rattling. His name starts pouring from your mouth like a stream, mixed with curses and despair. Your eyes are wet, tears mixing with sweat as they spill down your face, your heart fit to detonate. You're staring at him, so fucking close and all he'd have to do is just...

 His eyes flicker down. He sees you. Sees what he's done to you, the mess he's made you become for him.

 Your heart stops, a strangled shout tearing your chest open as you feel yourself explode, still fucking yourself down on the toy inside you as you, finally, stare into his eyes. Your whole body is pulsing hard, stream after stream bursting from you, painting the floor before you, a few drops landing on your stockings to taint them. You keep going, still writing on the dildo, grinding yourself up and down, feeling your cum trickle down your cock as you push yourself through the aftershocks. He keeps watching every tiny motion you make as you move slower and slower, body heavy and failing as you come down, a new high brightening in the tips of your fingers, glowing through you.

 Your head feels fuzzy, room spinning around you a little, your hair sticking to your forehead, mouth still wet around small whining groans. You've barely slipped the toy from you when he's wrapping you up in a blanket, pulling you into his lap, arms holding you tight, pressing a firm kiss to your shoulder as you shiver, unbalanced and lit up like a light. You're sure you look like a royal fucking mess right about now but he doesn't seem to care, his own breathing almost as laboured as yours as he cradles you, rocking you gently, your eyes slowly coming back into focus.

 You snuggle in, still catching your breath as you rest your head against his chest, unable to speak for the moment though neither of you really mind. The t.v. still flickers faintly, the volume turned way down so all you can really hear is his heart. He rubs comfortingly at your arm, making absent circles, his lips pressing the top of your head. You try to move a little, stretch your legs out, but its no use; you're utterly spent, lead in your veins, completely pathetic in his arms. You smile. You know its what he wanted, that he's grateful. That he knows you love him. That he loves you back.

 You fall asleep after a while, curling your fingers into his shirt. He's still there when you wake up. He's still watching you, like he always will.


End file.
